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Harry attempts to sneak into the Gryffindor Common Room and runs into Ginny. Talk ensues and Harry eventually asks Ginny to the Yule Ball.

Location

Gryffindor Common Room

Date

Nov 14th, 1994

Watch For

The tension!

Logger

Harry

Normally the portrait of the Fat Lady lays silent this time of night, the woman sound asleep in her frame. Only to be roused by someone on the other side tapping her and issuing the password. Creaking open, that person is Harry who crosses quickly into the common room. If Hermione found out he was out this late, there would be hell to pay. "Thanks." he whispers, hoping that he's lucky enough to have avoided anyone in the main area of the room. Then he could just slip off to his dorm undetected.

Ginny is up ghastly late, studying. There's a plethora of books surrounding her, some stacks so tall that they obscure the view of her. Every so often she'll sigh, loudly, and put down her quill to shake out the cramps in her writing hand. Parchment, filled to the brim with her small script, is scattered around the table she occupies. When the portrait hole swings open to reveal Harry, Ginny has the brief but intense urge to hide under the table. Mastering it, she instead stays quite still, unsure of what to do.

As he steps in to the common room, Harry makes it a point to glance over the area. Mainly to make sure he's gotten in unnoticed. Besides, who would be up this late anyhow? Except….he spots Ginny and immediately comes to a dead standstill. Only Petrificus Totalus could make him look more still than he appears. "Uhhhh…..hi." he finally manages to get out, barely avoiding a stutter. "Didn't think anyone would be up this late." Stairs. Stairs. Where are the stairs? Of all the times to get confused…

It's Ginny's cue to blush. "I. Um." Words? What were words? Beyond Ginny, that was for sure. She takes in a deep breath. Then another. Then she gets the ability to formulate words. "Iwasstudying." Ack, that was no good. Take two. "I was studying. I'm behind in Herbology. What about you?"

Harry reaches up a hand to scratch the back of his neck, and then catches himself. Nervous gestures like that will give you away, boy. "I was..uh….talking to Professor Dumbledore." he replies, doing his best not to blush even though his cheeks are starting to tint pink. "Well, I wouldn't stay up too late. The prefects love to dock points for being up to all hours of the night." Slowly he starts to edge towards the stairs to the dorms.

"What were you talking to Professor Dumbledore about?" Ginny asks, twisting to follow Harry's progress with her brown eyes. Curiosity rears in her, and she tilts her head to the side. Her fingers absently twist the quill in her fingers, unknowingly sprinkling ink splotches over her latest page of notes.

Well, she's known Harry long enough, so he's comfortable with telling her. "My scar. The other day it hurt really bad." he says, halting his trek towards the stares and turning his gaze towards her. "I thought he might want to know. Careful there…" he says, giving a nod towards the ink blotches as he fishes his wand out of his robe pocket.

"Did he say anything about it?" Ginny asks, her curiosity pushing her to ask. It might not be entirely proper, but there wasn't anyone else around, so perhaps it could be overlooked. When Harry indicates the splotches, she goes slightly splothy herself, moving the quill out of the way, putting it back in the ink well. "Are you okay?"

"He said it could be tied to the Dark Mark appearing at Sirius' trial the other day." Harry explains, flicking his wand at the paper and uttering 'Tergio'. It's only a moment later and the ink blots are gone. "Yeah, I'm ok. Just got a lot on my mind lately. How about you?"

Ginny is looking at the paper, about to pat it down, when the blotches vanish. She smiles, and murmurs thanks. "That makes sense.. both things. The Mark, and having things on your mind. Um.. I'm pretty good. After I finish this work, I'm going to write a letter to Mum and Dad, about dress robes for the Yule Ball. Do you want me to tell them you say hi?" It seems Ginny has gone from unable to speak to babbling.

"Sure." Harry answers, nodding his head. The Weasley clan is the closest he's had to a real family. "I'm sure she's wondering why I haven't written after spending the whole summer there." At the mention of dress robes, he blushes slightly again. "Can you tell her to stop by my vault and pick up some money for mine? I didn't bring a set with me this year." Why would he have needed them?

Ginny nods, picking up a fresh sheet of parchment and making a note or two on it about the letter. "Sure, I can do that. Did you want them in Gryffindor colours, or..?" She lets the sentence trail off questioningly, her eyes on him. Only a girl would think of details like that. "I hear some of the girls are going to wear gowns," she mentions, though she hardly expects Harry to get all giddy over gown designs. But there is a silence! It must be /filled/!

Harry watches every move while trying to hide the pinkness in his cheeks. "Yeah…I think Gryffindor colors would be best." He always did like the red and gold colors. "Are they?" That he hadn't heard and causes the pink to go more red. "I….I hadn't heard that. Though I'm sure those that do wear gowns will…umm…will look great."

Ginny nods, doodling twisting vine shapes around the edges of her parchment. "Yes. Some of the Muggle-born girls even brought in Muggle fashion magazines, to look at the different dresses." Halting herself before she starts rambling, she gropes around for a subject. "Um. Are you excited?" Tilting her head to the side, she clarifies. "You know. For the Ball?"

"Terrified, actually." Harry admits, offering up the largest and sheepish grin he's probably ever conjured up in his life. "I don't know how to dance. The Dursleys never taught me. And I can't figure out how to ask y….ummm….someone to the dance." There goes the hand to the back of his neck, scratching. Maybe she won't notice the slipup.

Harry's grin is mirrored on Ginny's face, though it's a little more nervous than sheepish. "Ah, um. You could ask Professor McGonagall, maybe.. I bet she'd teach you. Maybe Hermione could find a book, with lots of illustrations." Her nervousness fades slightly as she speaks of Hermione, only to reach an all-time high as Harry mentions asking someone to the dance. Ginny didn't notice the slip-up, the only thing registering in her brain were the words 'ask', and 'dance', in the /same sentence/. Her face isn't sure whether to go bright red or absolutely pale. "O-oh? Really? You, um, have someone in mind alreadywho?"

"Maybe." Harry nods, looking thoughtful. "I don't suspect there's any place down in Hogsmeade I could take lessons from." Definitely not since he's combed the village over last year and this year so far. When she asks about who he was planning to ask there is a long awkward silence for a moment during which his face goes a shade of red usually reserved for muggle traffic lights. "I was think of asking……you." The last word of that is said so low, he's not certain if she even heard it or not. Either way, he's braced for the worst as he sits there darting his eyes between the floor and her.

"Me?" Ginny's reply is squeaked at such a high frequency that dogs would find it easier to hear than humans. In attempting to clear her throat, she coughs violently, bracing herself against the table as she tries to catch her breath. Bright red, her eyes look anywhere but Harry. "You're.. you're not having me on, are you? Is this some sort of bet? Did Ron put you up to this, thinking I didn't have anyone to go with?" Ginny all but flails her arms around.

Ok, so she's reacted. And he's still sitting. This could be considered a positive thing? Harry still only looks at her in between looks at the walls. Ceiling. Anywhere. "No. No. It's not a bet or anything like that." he starts, trying to explain in a way that won't get him killed. "Ron and I were talking the other night about who we were going to ask and I accidentally told him I was thinking about asking you. And…umm….he was ok with it." Basically, anyhow. Providing Harry keeps his word.

Ginny rubs her face with her hands, which thankfully hides Harry from view for a moment or two. /Get a grip, Gin./ She tells herself, and after a few deep breaths, she's able to sit up and - astonishment of all astonishments - look at Harry if not in eye, then in the face. "So you. Want to go. To the Yule Ball. With.. me. Actually, literally, really. Like a date." Bluntness is Ginny's friend.

"Well…ummm….yeah." Harry answers, tilting his head forward to look at the ground. A good thing to as his face is really red now. But he soon brings himself to look up and see if he can read any answer at all. When it's uncertain, he continues. "But…umm….if you don't want to…or…uhhhh…have someone else you want to ask….you can, you know….tell me no." Leave her an exit just in case.

Ginny looks deeply thoughtful. "And you're not having me on. And Ron said it was okay. And you.. want to." There's a slight smile in her voice. She tilts her head to the side, brown eyes studying Harry so intently, she half-expected to see right through into his insides. Then Ginny shrugs, and nods. "Okay."

Did the world just stop, or did she say okay? Harry has to take a moment and rewind the conversation in his head. "Absolutely not having you on. And you can ask Ron if you want to. I mentioned it to him first." All this is said while he forces his own green eyes to look back at her and echo his sincerity. And a bit of relief too.

Okay, Ginny cannot handle the eye contact for more than a second or two. It's just too intense. But before she breaks it, she does smile, a shy smile that promises more to come. Then she clears her throat loudly, the smile still lingering on her lips. "Okay, then. Did, um, Ron say if he was going to ask anybody?" Time for a subject change, before the heat from their cheeks sets a fire in the common room.

Thank heavens! Harry couldn't hold the gaze for much longer either. Before he does though he catches the smile, and matches it with his own. "He said he had someone in mind, but he refused to tell me. Badgered me to find out who I was asking, but wouldn't tell me who he was asking."

Ginny purses her lips thoughtfully. "Do you think it was Hermione?" It was hardly news how the two of them acted like an old married couple. Not news to anyone but the faux couple in question, anyway. "Figures that he'd shift the focus away from himself. I might need a wand to pry it out of him. Or maybe one of those ravenbars that Muggles use to open crates."